


Snapshot

by slowitdownbaby



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: I guess????, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:25:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5554082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowitdownbaby/pseuds/slowitdownbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I guess you let your guard down<br/>Your eyes always pretend to be indifferent<br/>but I know you’re looking at me</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshot

**Author's Note:**

> I got major taesoo feels after watching the vine of taemin saying, "I like Kyungsoo~" and this is what happened.

 

Taemin was a canvas.

  
  
All bright colors and deep contrast, splatters of anguish and drops of happiness. He was beautiful and tainted and all Kyungsoo saw was art.

  
  
He'd discovered him by accident, having been in the mood for a slightly more scenic route on his journey home from the coffee shop he frequented on a daily basis. The boy had been leaning against a tree at the time, cigarette propped between slightly parted lips. His focus was directed at the skateboard by his feet, toeing it back and forth aimlessly and Kyungsoo was fascinated.

  
  
He was nothing more than a guy. A guy who had been blessedly born with the golden ratio, all angular and symmetrical and flawlessly beautiful in a way that nearly knocked the air right out of Kyungsoo upon first glance. His body wasn't overly sinewy or defined, nor were his eyebrows perfectly trimmed or his facial hair shaved clean, but he was beautiful.

  
  
Strikingly so.

  
  
And Kyungsoo couldn't resist.

  
  
He had developed the picture of the boy as soon as he arrived home, ducking into the guest bedroom that had been converted into a dark room with a haste beyond his wildest dreams. The print had been astounding, more phenomenal than he could have possibly imagined and Kyungsoo realized, in that very moment, this boy was his newest muse.

  
  
He returned every day since, lounging on park benches, nibbling on scones and sipping coffee that scalded his tongue and left his lips tingling. He'd wait and watch and snap photo after photo of the skateboarder, admiring his technique and lithe movements. The way his lips would curl around cigarettes and blow clouds of smoke into the otherwise clear sky. The narrow of his eyes as he squinted against the sun and the veins in his arms as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

  
  
Photo after photo after photo lined the walls of Kyungsoo's darkroom - different positions and angles and skate tricks. He had reached the conclusion, after counting sixty or so developed pictures, that he had become somewhat of a stalker and, while the notion should have absolutely terrified him, it didn't. This boy was worth it - this boy was art.

  
  
It wasn't until week six of this that the boy acknowledged his existence, his skateboard coming to a halt mere feet away from the bench upon which Kyungsoo sat. They stared at each other - confused and lovely versus nerdy and embarrassed. Kyungsoo gulped, gut twisting with slight anxiety but the boy never spoke to him. Simply appraised him with non-judgmental eyes and, with a slight nod of approval, stepped back onto his skateboard and went about business as usual.

  
  
Kyungsoo counted twenty-seven photos alone that day.

  
  
\- - - -

  
  
The following week, Wednesday, Kyungsoo didn't go to the park. Or the coffee shop, for that matter.

  
  
He stayed in bed, swatting away any and all attempts Jongin made at trying to care for him because he wasn't a child and this wasn't his first bout of food poisoning and he'd be _fine_. Really. But his absence hadn't gone unnoticed, as Kyungsoo realized upon his visit to the park the following morning.

  
  
He had just sat down, crossed his legs beneath him Indian-style and fumbled around in the brown paper bag for his raspberry scone when a familiar body slid onto the bench beside him, skateboard at his feet.

  
  
Kyungsoo had frozen, hand stilling where it was shoved deep into the bag and slowly, every so slowly, raised his gaze to meet the side of the boy's angular jawline.

 

"You broke it."

 

Kyungsoo's brow furrowed and he straightened his posture, tilting his head much like a confused puppy. "Sorry?"

  
  
"Your streak." As if Kyungsoo was supposed to understand what that meant. "You've come here every day for seven weeks - except yesterday."

  
  
"You've been keeping count?"

  
"I wouldn't say that, necessarily."

  
The crease in Kyungsoo's brow only grew, his mind twisting with shock and confusion and - pleasure? "Then...what?"

  
A grin stretched the boy's lips wide, though they didn't curl like his own did or like Jongin's did. They just sort of...stretched, if that were possible. "I just - what do you do? With all the pictures?"

  
"I develop them."

  
The boy's head tilts and the grin on his lips fades, quirking downwards in a pondering pout. "Can I see them?"

  
"You want to - "

  
But he only nods, standing with his skateboard tucked beneath his arm and he motions for Kyungsoo to follow him. "Lead the way," he says, as if he hadn't just invited himself over to Kyungsoo's place to see pictures of himself.

  
\- - - -

  
Kyungsoo learns, on the walk home, that the boy's name is Taemin. He's twenty years old and works in a music store and Kyungsoo feels it's oddly fitting for him, somehow. He tells Taemin about his own life - his stressful job working for a law firm, his dog that never stops barking, the coffee shop he goes to every day because he can't be bothered to make his own, and the way he spent his twentieth birthday dancing on tables at a gay bar in sparkly, spandex shorts that Jongin and Sehun forced upon him.

  
He's rambling, obviously, but Taemin laughs at all the right places and interjects with comments of his own that are somewhat but not really related to whatever Kyungsoo's discussing in that moment, and he seems genuinely interested in the gay bar story, having never been to one himself.

  
Kyungsoo's flat is far from plain, made up of several, posh furniture selections from Ikea and large prints of both his own photography - his best works - and prints from well-known and underground photographers around the area. His main hallway is lined with copies of platinum records, some autographed and others not, and Taemin is awestruck by the fact that he has every August Alsina song in existence on his iTunes. Kyungsoo leads him toward the guest room turned dark room, stepping aside to allow the stranger to walk inside.

  
He stares for a moment, eyes traveling over the many expressions on his own face as he flits from picture to picture. There's more than he expected, Kyungsoo knows, and he wonders if Taemin is at all bothered by the fact that he's been borderline stalking him for the past seven weeks.

  
  
But, Taemin's reaching out and running his fingers over one of the newer prints, and then he's spinning toward Kyungsoo with this odd determination in his eyes and says, "Would you let me photograph you?"

  
  
Kyungsoo's eyebrows skyrocket up his forehead, and then Taemin is smirking - "It only seems fair, yeah?" - and Kyungsoo can't say no.

  
  
He wordlessly hands his camera over, watching as the other fumbles with it for a moment before his fingers circle Kyungsoo's wrist and they're leaving the room again. Together they pad through Kyungsoo's loft, and it isn't until Taemin's lowering him onto his own bed that he realizes just what all of this is; he's never done this sort of thing before, and it's taking his brain a moment to catch on when Taemin's fingers are fumbling with the buttons on his crisp white button down and his tongue is poking through his chapped lips.

  
  
He watches as Taemin straddles his hips, raising the camera to his own eye and squinting the other and Kyungsoo's not entirely sure if he should be smiling or pouting or making some sort of filthy facial expression, so all he does is stare with wide eyes as the shutter purrs and clicks and Taemin's grin lights a fire within him. His fingers curl into Taemin's thighs, gripping almost painfully, as the second click echoes throughout the otherwise silent room.

  
  
This feels oddly erotic, what with the way his cock has started to swell and fill and twitch with every gentle shift of Taemin's body, the tongue lapping at the other boy's lips as he stares through the camera's lens without taking a single picture. "Is this all right?" he's asking, and Kyungsoo's not sure what he's referring to, exactly. But he's nodding despite himself because, at this point, anything Taemin did would be all right.

 

Fingers brush his jaw, and he leans into the sensation as another photo is snapped. He wonders what he must look like through the lens - shirt unbuttoned, lips pink and wet from being bitten into nervously, eyes closed and mouth parted as he leans toward the comforting touch. A thumb traces his lower lip, knocking into his teeth as he sucks the digit into his mouth. Another purr of the shutter and a downward roll of Taemin's hips. He arches up to meet him, back lifting off the bed and his eyes snap open when the camera suddenly falls beside his head.

  
  
"So beautiful." The words are whispered against his lips, hoarse and dry and Kyungsoo unravels, tilting his head upwards to meet the kiss. His body molds to Taemin, arms circling his back and hips slotting against him. There's a hum of contentment somewhere in the back of his counterpart's throat and Kyungsoo's grip on him only tightens.

  
  
Taemin shifts above him, discarding his shirt (Kyungsoo's fairly certain he saw the fabric land carelessly on his closet doorknob) and pushing Kyungsoo's over his shoulders and down his arms. His fingers graze flesh, raising goosebumps in their wake and a smile twists the boy's lips, excited and lovely. Pants and briefs follow, Taemin's lips ghosting Kyungsoo's torso as he rids him of the constricting material. There's a mantra he repeats into his skin, teeth nipping painfully pleasant at the jut of Kyungsoo's hipbones - _perfect, perfect, perfect_ \- and there'd shudders rippling through the brunette's body as Taemin sucks a bruise on his inner thigh.

  
  
He fumbles for the camera, not even bothering to lift it to his face before snapping away - Taemin's eyes closed, lips tenderly pressed to his belly; Taemin's hand as it wraps around the base of Kyungsoo's cock; Taemin's eyes boring into the lens in front of him, hazel eyes smoldering beautifully; Taemin's mouth as he takes Kyungsoo in; Taemin reaching to take the camera from his grasp.

  
The focus is on him then - him and the passion contorting his features as he throws his head backwards, throat exposed and tinted red, nipples standing erect against toned pecs.

  
  
They go through the motions of prepping - three spit-slicked fingers working him open as Taemin sucks bruising kiss after bruising kiss onto his belly and his thighs and the inside of Kyungsoo's wrist - and when Taemin finally slides into him and buries himself to the hilt, he snaps a photo of Kyungsoo's face; pupils blown and lips parted, utterly blissed out.

  
  
They rock together seamlessly, and there’s a moment when Kyungsoo wonders where he beings and Taemin ends, and the camera transfers from one set of hands to the next with each new position. Sweet nothings are whispered into Kyungsoo's ear as he comes, sweaty hands clasped behind Taemin's neck and ankles digging into the boy's lower back. They kiss languidly through their post-coital high, and when Taemin tucks his head into the crook of Kyungsoo's neck and whispers, "develop these too, yeah?" all Kyungsoo can do is tighten his hold around the other's waist and allow himself to be pressed into the mattress once again.  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

  
  
Taemin isn't at the park the following day, or the day after that, or the day after that.

 

But, when he does show up, it's with a coffee in hand and a scone in a bag and he slides his hand easily into Kyungsoo's as they stroll back to his apartment. He's shown the pictures from that afternoon as Kyungsoo hugs him from behind, mouthing lazily along his jaw, and he doesn't bother looking at any that aren't of Kyungsoo.

  
  
After thumbing through the pile, he twists around in Kyungsoo's hold and presses their foreheads together, grin coiling his plump lips. "I think I'll keep you," he whispers, and Kyungsoo laughs.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted on here and AFF.


End file.
